Then he stood up and repeated it again. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. He feared to antagonize that distinguished person. So dreadful were these shouts as to produce an effect upon the hardened feelings of Jonathan, who shrank out of sight. Want to walk home today? Lucy slipped the paper into her English textbook. I had two slices.
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